Balance: by rabbit
Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, everything else is JK Rowling's.
Chapter 13: Cliffhanger
Summary: Harry and Draco work together to get Snape out of danger.
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Lowering Draco with the rope proved to be more complicated than it sounded. There was only one length of rope in the pack, for one thing, and they had to work out a way of tying Draco to one end that wouldn't go too loose when he was smaller or too tight when he grew. It was Draco who suggested two loops, that he could put his legs through. "We can do the same thing with the other end of the rope for Professor Snape."
"That's an idea." Harry agreed. "It doesn't leave a lot of rope for pulling you back up with, though."
"Maybe not, but once I've got the rope around the Professor, you can tie it to something, and then McGonagall can help you pull me up and we'll all three pull him up."
"Loop the rope around a tree," Professor McGonagall suggested. "That will make it easier to control than if you've just hung it down straight."
"Which tree?" Harry wondered, seeing the sense of the suggestion.
"The hawthorn on the other side of the oak," McGonagall said. "That would be the most appropriate."
Harry couldn't even tell how she knew it was there from where she was lying, but she was right, there was a hawthorn, not five inches from the edge, and about four feet from the oak tree. He worked his way carefully under the lowest thorny branch and threaded the rope around the trunk once and once more, completely encircling it. Then he tested the rope, working it back and forth to make sure that it wouldn't catch on the bark, before backing back out to Draco.
"This end's ready," Draco had the loops set. "Give me that end."
"Here." Harry paced the clearing, testing possible places to brace his feet or tie off the rope while he waited for Draco to get the ends ready. A couple of the things he thought were roots came free of the mud at the first tug, but he found a few sturdier possibilities. At least it wasn't raining very much anymore. Maybe it couldn't rain, so close to the barrier. Harry looked up, wishing he could figure out whether or not it was worth wasting a firework to signal for more help. He just couldn't tell. By the way the tree branches were cut off, it might only go up and be destroyed, and he only had two of them left.
"Severus, you're very quiet," McGonagall said, and Harry looked back to where she was holding on.
"Just…" Snape's voice was hoarse, and he coughed to clear his throat. "Just resting, Minerva," he said tiredly. "I haven't bled to death yet."
Harry and Draco looked at each other. There wasn't going to be time to wait for help to get here anyway, Harry decided, as Draco held up the other end of the rope, ready to go. "Just hang on, sir," Harry called to Snape. "And keep your eyes closed in case Malfoy knocks anything loose on the way down."
Draco stepped into the first harness, one leg in each loop, and held the rope with his injured arm as he made his careful way over McGonagall's head. "When I get a good place to hold on," he told Harry, "you tie off the rope, and then let down the other end so I can get Professor Snape hooked into it. Then you make his rope fast. Right?"
"I've got it," Harry said testily, and then regretted it when he saw how pale Draco had gone, now that it was time to make the climb down. He twisted his arm into the rope for a better grip, and nodded in a way that he hoped was reassuring as he braced his feet. "Good luck, Draco."
He realized his mistake the moment that Draco had to really put his weight on the rope. Harry just couldn't depend on his arm strength staying consistent while he tried to support Draco – and the rope burned in his hands as he tried to hold it. "Wait!"
"Ouch!" Draco shouted from where he'd disappeared over the edge. "Don't drop me, Potter!"
"Sorry!" Harry called. "Can you hang on for a minute?"
"I'm not low enough yet," Draco protested.
"Just for a minute. I need to get a better grip."
"Hurry up then. It's all thorns down here."
"That's holly, Lucius," Snape said, his voice younger again. "Honestly, don't you ever pay attention in Herbology?"
Harry made a hasty overhand knot in the rope, leaving the bight big enough to slip over his head and down around his chest, so that he was bracing his entire weight on the line across his back. "I'm ready now. How much more rope do you need?"
"About three feet. I think I can brace myself there." Draco called.
"All right. I'm going to have to do it pretty carefully," Harry grunted. "Try not to let go with both hands." Carefully, moving inch by inch along the footholds among the roots, Harry worked his way toward hawthorn tree, watching as the rope came back round the oak and over the elbow of one of the roots over McGonagall before vanishing down into the darkness. He could hear Draco talking to Snape.
"Of course I pay attention in Herbology, but it's easier when there's a little light. How did you get so tangled up in it?"
"I'm not sure. It sort of tangled itself. Have you come to get me out of here?"
"Yes," Draco said. "There." The rope stopped pulling on Harry. "All right, Potter! Make sure you tie it tight."
"Potter's up there? What if he's got Black and Lupin with him?" Snape's voice cracked.
"It's all right," Draco told him as Harry worked a knot around a tree root to support Draco and began to coil up the rest of the rope to take with him as he got into position to pass it down. "McGonagall's up there. I mean, Professor McGonagall. Sir. Come on… please, remember. You're the Potions Master, now."
"It's all right, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, as Harry carefully stepped over her once more. "There seems to be a memory barrier whenever he drops to the ages around the time of school leaving, but it doesn't seem to be permanent."
"Potions Master?" Snape echoed, his voice dropping half an octave. "As if I'd ever be a teacher at this school. Imagine having to look at old McGonagall's hatchet face in the faculty lounge every morning."
"Severus!" McGonagall exclaimed indignantly.
Harry had to get a better grip to keep himself from slipping and stepping on her, and he swallowed a laugh. He reached the edge of the tree and looked down to the two Slytherins, who, safely out of McGonagall's range of vision, were grinning at each other. Snape looked to be about seventeen or so, and going upwards, Draco slipping down towards eleven again. "Hey, Draco. Ready for the rope?"
"I think so," Draco said, shifting his grip on the root he was holding onto, so that he'd hooked his elbow through with one arm, and could get both hands a little freer.
They both composed their faces quickly, and Snape frowned upwards at Harry. "Potter?" he asked, and then, as he passed some invisible boundary in time, repeated, "Potter," more certainly before calling, "Minerva?"
"I'm still here, Severus," McGonagall said tartly. "Hatchet face and all."
"What are you on about?" Snape asked wonderingly. Harry ignored them both and threaded the rope downwards to Draco while McGonagall relieved her feelings by reciting a rather thorough description of the past few minutes' conversation.
"You'll have to forgive me, Minerva," Snape said drily as Draco worked one of the loops around his left boot. "as an insult it really wasn't up to my usual standard." He made a pained noise then, and used a word that Harry only vaguely knew the meaning of. "Careful, Mr. Malfoy," he told Draco, "that leg's not exactly unhurt, you know."
"I can tell," Draco said. "Let me get the other foot through this loop, and then we'll see about padding it a little." He looked up at Harry. "I'm not sure we're going to be able to just pull him up," he said. "He's all tangled into things; you might need me to work him loose as you pull."
"I'm not sure…" Harry started.
"You and McGonagall together," Draco said, cutting him off. "I'll tell you when he's gone youngest again, and you can pull him up when he's at his lightest point. I'll climb up along behind and help him. As long as the rope's tied, it's not like I can fall any farther, right?"
"I don't think so," Harry said. He didn't like the plan much, but he couldn't think of a better one. "All right. I'll go back and get the rope tied off so that Professor McGonagall can let go of the cloak, then."
"Right." Draco concentrated on getting Snape into the rest of the harness.
Harry made sure that the rope would go over another root, and not hit McGonagall as he measured it out to the farthest tying off place he could reach. He turned to check the tautness and the rope looked sturdy enough. When he called for Draco to check, the other boy said that the rope seemed to be holding Snape all right. Harry went over to McGonagall. "You can let go now, Ma'am."
"Do you know," she said carefully, "I don't think I can, actually."
Oh. Harry knelt and looked at her hands, clenched tightly around the gathered cloth. They looked cold – nearly blue, where they weren't white with effort. "Uhm… this might hurt," he said, and carefully began working the cloth out of her grip. Her hands were cold, terribly cold, and he tried blowing warmth at them as he worked, and letting his own hands warm them now and then, to loosen up the crabbed shapes from the wool.
Over the edge of the world he heard Draco saying, "Do you see colors in it?" quietly.
"It doesn't do to look long at the abyss, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied. "You soon get a surfeit of it."
At last Harry got McGonagall's hands free of the cloth and she pulled them into her chest as she curled onto her side, biting her lip to keep from making a noise about the returning circulation. Her age slid younger than Harry had seen it go all this time, down into her forties or even thirties. She looked very different and much the same in the shadows below the lantern; soft-faced and vulnerable with eyes that spoke of steel, and he hastily made himself busy with disentangling the ivy that had caught at her legs. "There," he said, and caught her elbow to help her upright. "There, how do you feel?"
"Not entirely well, Mr. Potter," she answered. "But I think… I think we should get the other two up here, quickly."
"Yes." Harry helped her take her place in the bight, so she could use her weight to pull with and not her tormented hands. He dug through the pack for some cloth to use on his hands as makeshift gloves.
"We're almost ready, Draco," he called. "Tell us when."
"Now, sir," Draco responded, speaking to Snape. "See if you can remember. What did the Sorting Hat sing the year you first came to Hogwarts?"
And I'll concentrate on being as old as I can, Harry thought to himself, trying to think his muscles as big as they'd go. He wasn't expecting a lot of help from McGonagall, really – not in the shape she was – and as the voice of Snape trying to recite the song grew younger he dug in his heels and started to pull.
An inch, two inches, six, eight… He had to find another place to brace his right foot, and then all of a sudden he felt McGonagall's help kick in and was astonished at the strength of the steady pull. A small pale face appeared over the tangle of roots and then the oversized coat of chainmail along with it. Harry kept pulling, since Snape kept coming, not stopping until he'd gotten the boy onto the muddy leaves and he could see Draco climbing up behind him.
As soon as the rope stopped pulling at him, Snape twisted up onto his knees and stared wearily at Harry, and beyond to McGonagall. He was already beginning to age upwards, his face filling in and changing, although his hair always seemed to be the same. As Harry watched the boy became the man, lengthening and starting to fill out. Lines started to appear gradually on his face, and then suddenly he pulled his left arm to his chest as every line that Harry knew filled in the outlines, as if he'd aged twenty years in a single night, once not so long ago.
Snape blinked once, looking nearly as startled as Harry felt. He was looking past Harry, and Harry turned to follow the gaze.
There was…someone…or the shape of someone… just blending into the shadows of the forest where the rope had been pulled, well behind the place where McGonagall still stood looking confused in the circle of the loop of rope where Harry'd put her.
"Remus?" Snape asked. And then fainted.